


so come on, let me love you

by Emmar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Iskryne Series - Elizabeth Bear & Sarah Monette
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Psychic Wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 06:38:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4511733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmar/pseuds/Emmar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bondwolf is a witch or wizard's most precious companion, and having them separates the wizarding world from the muggle a great deal.</p><p>Oftentimes, wolves are so much more sensible than their humans.</p><p>(The one where the wizarding world has psychic wolves, and it changes things.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	so come on, let me love you

**Author's Note:**

> This is almost certainly going to be expanded, because having psychic wolves would solve so many problems in canon via them going 'no that's stupid' quite often, I feel. I just wanted to throw this first bit out quick. There is also more worldbuilding to come in later instalments.
> 
> All you really need to know about this fusion is that people form psychic bonds with gigantic wolves.

The first thing Harry notices, in Diagon Alley, is the wolves. They’re _everywhere_. There’s not a single person without one except the little kids, and Harry practically climbs Hagrid in alarm the first time one of them gets within a foot.

“Wolves,” he manages, as Hagrid leads him into Diagon Alley proper, towards the huge ornate facade that can only belong to the bank.  
“Aye,” says Hagrid, “forgot you wouldn’t know, o’ course. Every witch or wizard gets one, same time as a wand.”  
“What, someone just— hands you one?”  
“No, no, course not,” Hagrid says with a deep, rumbling chuckle. “The pup’ll choose you. You’ll see. Now, don’t you go starin’ at the goblins, a’right, they don’t take kind to it.”

After navigating a street full of huge wolves, Harry thinks, the goblins are much easier to deal with, even if his instinctual ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ seem to startle them.

Ollivander, creepy Mr Ollivander, finally gives Harry a holster for his new wand (holly, phoenix feather, eleven inches) and mutters something ominous about it being a brother wand to the one that Voldemort uses, and then says, “of course, there are more important bonds that those of wands.”

“Off you pop,” Hagrid says, giving him a gentle push towards Mr Ollivander - gentle from Hagrid, of course, which means Harry staggers into the nearest shelf before righting himself. “I’ll just wait here.”

Mr Ollivander pats Hagrid gently on the forearm, a strangely sad look in his eyes, and then turns to Harry. “Right, then, Mr Potter, time to find you a wolf, my lad. Come along.”

He leads Harry to the back of the shop, through a door into a room that contains only a fireplace, burning with bright green flame. “In you go.”  
“In— the fire?” Harry asks, voice thin.  
“Yes, yes, it’s only a floo, it won’t hurt you. Go on.”

Harry goes, and tumbles out into another room, covered from head to toe in soot and coughing. When he stops, Mr Ollivander hooks a hand under his elbow and pulls him to his feet and says, “Hello, my dear.”

There’s a huge, silver wolf padding across the room to butt her head against Mr Ollivander’s chest, and he rubs a hand affectionately over her ear, head cocked to one side as if listening.

“Hm,” he says after a moment. “Right, go and say hello then, Mr Potter.”  
“Um,” says Harry, but follows the wolf back to the ginormous pile of puppies anyway. There are all sorts, black and white and tan and brown, brindled and solid and patchwork.

“Hello,” Harry says, awkward and uncertain, and one of the puppies - runt of the litter, looking at him, jet black with white socks - bounds over, barks once, and licks Harry’s face.

Something unfolds in his mind like a flower, a sunburst, and with the scent of the sea on his tongue he says, “Oh, hello, Neptune.”


End file.
